


My Prince, My Villain (The Darker Side of the Fairy Tale Is Called Reality)

by Sun_Spark



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Based on a Tumblr Post, Disney, Disney Princes, Eventual Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Gen, Hurt, Pre-Canon, Pre-Episode: Accepting Anxiety, Pre-Slash, Prince Philip - Freeform, Roman is not philip, Tags Are Hard, Virgil crushes on Philip, becoming a villain, but he got a hell of a insulting tongue on him, disney villians - Freeform, feedback is loved!, he doesn't get physical, how a side forms, how virgil became the dark persona we see now, if i forgot a tag, let me know, not really - Freeform, pre-prinxiety - Freeform, princey has an anger issue, self comfort that is, tf are tags?, though fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15585033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sun_Spark/pseuds/Sun_Spark
Summary: Little Virgil, before Anxiety even had a physical form, got a child-crush on Prince Philip from Sleeping Beauty. Now, years later, with a physical form and a place in the mind palace, he meets Roman. Now Roman isn't Philip, but he's a prince! And princes are kind and they protect others and they're the best of friends! Maybe Roman will be his friend. But Roman calls him a villain for what his purpose is, crushing Virgil's heart and opening his eyes to the darker side of fairy tales, sending him on a path to crafting the dark persona he presents today.





	My Prince, My Villain (The Darker Side of the Fairy Tale Is Called Reality)

When Virgil was very young, long before Anxiety had a physical form, he had still had a consciousness. He was aware of Thomas’s thoughts and experiences, thereby being able to gauge situations and people more accurately and warn Thomas accordingly. Back when he was only fight-or-flight. Without a physical form he had just sort of, hovered, in the darkness, no real body to feel like he was lost in the expanse of nothingness, just a consciousness with thoughts and feelings, witnessing every moment of Thomas’s life while not living one of his own. He didn’t mind though, it was rather nice, the quiet. It let him do his job without interference. But it did get a tad boring sometimes. With nothing to do and no duties to perform other than observe and advise, he was quite glad when Thomas took such a liking to fairy tales.

The young child spent _hours_ engrossed in story books and Disney movies, and, since there was no danger to be gauged here, that left Virgil hours at a time where he could just _absorb_. He fell in love with them too. The wonder of them, the magic, the adventure, but also the people. Every tale always ended with two people together, happy and sharing their lives, and, lonely as he was, that was something he yearned for.

He was no creativity, nor was he particularly imaginative, but it wasn’t hard to imagine a strong and kind companion to be his friend and keep him safe. Like one of the Princes. Thomas too took a liking to the Princes, dreaming about being one, but Virgil…. he dreamed of being with one. At some point he decided Prince Philip was his favorite.

The other Princes just didn’t set right with him, the thought of meeting them sending his self-preservation instincts into a frenzy. Aladdin was a liar, a cheat, who had, regardless of the ending, only wished to obtain riches. Eric was a blind fool, easily bewitched not once, but twice…. though he had dove into the sea for Ariel…perhaps he wasn’t so bad. No-Name from Snow white was a creep who fell for an attractive girl, tracked her down, kissed her sleeping -okay, okay! cursed- body, and carted her off to be married without so much as a “by your leave”. Beast? Kidnapping, anger issues, mentally eleven, totally unrealistic personality change at the end? No thanks. Charming from Cinderella? Went for the most attractive girl, danced with her for hours and couldn’t even remember her name, indicating they hadn’t really talked at all, tracked her down throughout the kingdom, and carted her off to be married.

Philip? Well, no prince was perfect, but he was pretty darn close in Virgil’s opinion. He was kind, he was honest, and he stood up for what he believed was right, and he was respectful as well as dedicated. He had gotten to know his princess, not treating her any different for supposedly being a peasant. Had introduced himself and danced with her, taking the time to know her rather than being bewitched by her looks. When she had left he was respectful of her boundaries, unlike all the chase-after-her-and-send-the-guards-out princes, instead returning home and waiting. Upon returning home he is kind and respectful to his father on matters which they disagree on, standing firm that he cannot follow the old traditions. He sets off, not to marry or woo this girl, but to find and get to know her. She’s captured and cursed? He tries to save her, no clue she’s a princess. He risks his life and is imprisoned, all for the sake of someone he doesn’t know. Once freed he fights against the wicked dragon witch, a far more powerful creature than him, filled with evil magic. Virgil quite thought that if he had skin, she’d be making it crawl. Most fairy tales show a gloriously enraged hero smiting a great foe, but Philip doesn’t…he shows no malice nor cruelty in the battle, merely doing what he must. Upon finding Aurora, a girl he has some familiarity with, he does kiss her without asking in order to break the curse, but the clear distinction is that he **_knows_** it’s a curse. Unlike Mr. Creepy-no-name from Snow White who thought he was kissing a dead girl, Philip knows that a kiss is needed to wake her.

Virgil hadn’t been very impressed with the princes, finding them shallow and gruff, but he found himself quite smitten with Philip. Wondering what it would be like if a Philip of his own found him here, took him away from all the nothingness, became his friend and protected him? He doubted it was even possible, he didn’t even have a physical form for gosh sake! But…. maybe, he could dream….and hope that there were no dreaded dragon witches to stand in the way should it ever happen.

*****

When Thomas got older Virgil was still very much smitten with Prince Philip, and though he dreamed of meeting a Philip of his own, he didn’t hold serious hope that it was possible. That changed, however, when Thomas started to become Anxious. So much so that the world around Virgil, which had always been inky nothingness, began to change. It morphed and blurred, resettling into shapes and colors. A bed clothed in deep purple, a dresser and a desk of dark black, a blackened sky dotted with stars, four dark grey, almost black, walls, and a midnight purple carpet. A dark brown door sat against one wall, framed in black. A bedroom. He knew what it was of course, Thomas would have known so he knew…. But why?

He felt -and god wasn’t that a strange thing, to feel something- a softness below him, felt a weight settling over him as he was set down on it. How? He looked -looked!- down and saw a body, two bare feet on a dark carpet. Thin legs wrapped in dark skinny jeans. A waist encircled by a black and silver belt. A stomach leading up into a chest, more black cloth encasing them. Two hands, at either side of this body, arms wrapped in a grey and black hoodie. Something brown was obscuring his vision, thin strands of it tickling him. Hair, he realized. He felt an expansion somewhere near what he assumed was the center of his being, a coldness filling it, and, as he watched, the foreign chest rose and fell, in time with the strange sensation. _Breathing_. He was breathing.

This body…was his? Yes. But how? He didn’t understand, that was Logic’s job! He focused very hard and lifted the hands into his field of vision, the sensation of muscles pulling and relaxing almost startling him in its strangeness. Despite everything, his first clear thought in this form is _“Huh. Maybe I can find a Philip after all.”_

*****

Virgil spends the next several days in his room, learning how to use his new body. How to move, how fast he was, how strong, where he was weak, what hurt and what didn’t, how his voice worked, how not to stress about his breathing and heart beat because those were automatic. Every day, three times, he would find food materialized on the inside of his door, later he would learn it was from Morality. Eating was a whole other matter as well, learning how to chew and swallow properly, how not to bite his tongue, how not to choke from too much too fast, how to understand the sensations that were hunger and thirst. The flavor, that was almost overwhelming, he’d never known such a thing unless it was second hand from Thomas, and those had always been bad things that made Thomas sick. It was all overwhelming and exhilarating, so he stayed there, learning.

The others notice the new door, of course, how could they miss a new door set into the wall alongside theirs’s? And they speculated about what new side would come out.

“Perhaps it is a knight come from the subconscious, an embodiment of perseverance and valor!” Boomed Creativity.

“Oh, does it matter? I’m sure he’ll be wonderful! And he’ll have so many questions…. Hey! Maybe he’s curiosity or wonder!” Bubbled Morality.

“Unlikely,” Said Logic “As he has not made an appearance, waiting far longer than any of us did, he is likely not the adventurous nor curious type. Perhaps he is a form of caution.”

These discussions were not uncommon for the four days the new side stayed hidden away. Once Patton became so worried that perhaps something was wrong that Logan had to stop him from opening the door: “He’ll come out when he’s ready Patton, this is not an easy transition.”

***

Four days. Four days after his body had been formed, four days of movement and sight and smell and touch. Four days and he knew he had to go out that door. He knew there were others on the outside, knew he was meant to be with them…but he was hesitant. He was new and awkward and unsure of himself. That in and of itself had given him a clue to his purpose now. He had known he was survival instinct, that he was self-preservation, but that hadn’t needed a physical form. He knew now what he was, and he wasn’t sure he liked it, but it was his role, and he would carry out his duty to Thomas.

Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped outside, pulling his hoodie close to him. There was a hallway now, dead ending into various rooms, a staircase at the other end. _‘Guess it’s the stairs then.’_ The floor was solid and cold under his feet and the stairs creaked randomly as he descended them, each step twisting something in his newly formed gut a little more. After what seemed to be an eternity, he reached the bottom. He paused there and observed his surroundings, or rather he’d meant to, before something else caught his eye: Three people. And they hadn’t noticed him yet.

The calm one dressed in deep blue with a necktie on, sat in a single person armchair, a book held within his bespectacled gaze by one hand. A bouncy and smiling man clothed in light blue with a cardigan surrounding his shoulders was animatedly talking to the third man sitting next to him who was… _Oh._ He was a Prince, that much was clear from how he held himself, if not from the clothes. They weren’t the deep maroon and purple and black robes he had grown to find so comforting and welcoming, the stark white and vibrant red instead seeming harsh to his eyes. But…clothes didn’t indicate what kind of prince he was….

Now Virgil wasn’t a fool, he knew that this wasn’t Philip. Philip wasn’t real, just a character from a fairy tale…but maybe he would be like Philip? A different kind of twisting feeling went through his gut, combining with the nervousness. He almost turned and ran back upstairs before the light blue one noticed him, a smile lighting up his face. “Oh!” He exclaimed in delight. “He came down!”

The fatherly figure bounded up from the couch and over to Virgil, stopping just short of hugging him, though he seemed to want to very much. “Heya Kiddo! I’m Morality, though my name’s Patton!” Virgil…liked him? He seemed kind, but his energetic nature was overwhelming.

The calm one stood up, book snapping closed quietly in a crisp, precise movement. “Patton, a little less exuberance, lest you frighten the new man?” He stepped forward, once, toward Virgil, indicating a shift in attention, but not crowding him. “I am Logic, though you may call me Logan.” Virgil tried a small smile, he definitely liked this one, he was grounding.

The last man had been studying the new comer, but now he stood, grand gestures accompanying simple, yet somehow very dramatic, words. He bowed slightly, “And I am Creativity, though you may call me Roman.” He looks up and winks playfully, “Prince Roman.” Virgil emits a single, quiet giggle. Ok, he’s over the top, but he seems alright.

“H-Hi.” Virgil’s voice is timid. Patton just grins widely and gently grasps his wrist, pulling him over to the couch, rambling away about his, _their_ , home and each of them. He pauses after a while and looks at Virgil curiously. “What’s your name Kiddo?”

Nervousness grips Virgil’s stomach and he pales. “I…. I….” Logan seems to understand, and he speaks up from where he sits leaned back into the arm chair, ankle crossed over knee and fingers steepled. “You do not have to tell us right away if you do not wish. This is hardly an easy change.”

Virgil releases a breath he hadn’t realized was frozen in his throat, immense relief washing over him. “Thank you.”

****

They exist this way for almost a week, Virgil slowly getting comfortable with the others. He grows accustom to random touches and hugs and exclamations from Patton, though he still jumps every time. He grows used to, and comes to like, calm discussions with Logan on this topic or that, finding the other’s presence and steady tone soothing. Roman was the most difficult, his loud words and grand gestures frightening Virgil often, he was much…. _more_ …. than what Virgil had dreamed of. But then he was under no disillusionment that Roman would be Philip, and the Prince had made an effort to quiet both words and movements when he realized he was causing fear. So maybe, just maybe he could be Virgil’s friend, his prince in a different sense.

That was what he had hoped, and that was what it seemed was going to happen. But then things went wrong. Little things at first. The creative side becoming more worried over the flaws in his creations, which Virgil tried to assure him were fine. The Moral trait was more afraid of being hurt, physically and emotionally, and Virgil tried to reassure him that they would be cared for and loved by someone, one day. That right now they had Thomas’s parents and friends, and later they would have more than that. The Logical trait started staying up too late, nerves frazzled from too long studying, mind fueled by a sudden gripping panic that he had to learn everything he could before time ran out, and Virgil gently coaxed him into going to bed, telling him he had plenty of time. Then, it got worse, more gloominess, more worry, more fear, more panic, and Virgil tried to soothe it all. This alone wasn’t his undoing, but it certainly didn’t help him when the time came.

The time, as it were, was a late afternoon which found Virgil perched next to Roman on the couch, watching in amazement as the Prince built whole worlds out of paint on his canvas, drawing out ideas with passion. He was so content, and he just felt **_so_** _safe_. So, he spoke up, trusting when he should not have.

“Roman?” It was quiet, as he had no wish to disturb the other’s work. A ‘Hmm?’ muffled by the paintbrush clamped between closed lips was his only response. He shifted nervously. “I… My name…. uh…. I’m Anxiety!” He said that last part in a rush of air, a little harsher than he’d meant to.

The clattering of a paintbrush on a wooden table was the only sound after it drops from the Prince’s mouth. He turned to Virgil, mouth agape and eyes wide, and for a moment Virgil was hopeful that he was happy to finally know his companion’s name…but then the Prince’s features morphed into something bad, eyes lighting with anger and betrayal that Virgil didn’t understand.

“How **DARE YOU!** ” Virgil flinched back, and the creative trait didn’t follow, he didn’t have to, he was intimidating enough where he was. “We bring you into our home, treat you as one of us, give you patience and kindness, and you repay us with this?!” The prince shifted closer. “No, no I say! You’ve caused enough fear and pain you vile creature, but now you’ve unmasked yourself…there’ll be no more!” The creative trait’s eyes are narrowed into slits of fiery rage and hard steel. “I am the Prince, and it is **my** job to protect this realm, now **_begone with you, you witch! And take your curse with you!_**”

Virgil scrambled backwards, practically flailing to get off the couch and **_leave_** , only his fight or flight reflexes saved him from an ungraceful exit as he ran up the stairs, tears flowing from his eyes.

He locked himself in his room and cried, harsh sobs muffled by his sound proof room. He cried, and he thought. He thought long and hard about the stories he used to lose himself in, replaying them over in his mind, seeing them from a different perspective, his childlike world crumbling into dust.

Aladdin wasn’t about following your dreams and overcoming evil – It was about greed and power.

Beauty and the Beast wasn’t about love despite appearances – It was about kidnapping and being conditioned to love a monster.

Snow White wasn’t about true love’s kiss fixing everything – It was about running away from your problems and never facing them yourself.

Cinderella wasn’t about following your dreams to happiness -It was about suffering your whole life because you can’t stand up for yourself, hoping for a man to save you.

The Little Mermaid wasn’t about love defying all odds – It was about destroying yourself and changing your very nature for someone else to gain their affection.

The Fox and the Hound wasn’t about friendships overcoming nature and society – It was about betrayal as people succumb to their natures.

Winnie the Pooh wasn’t about friendship – It was about a little boy who lived a reality he escaped every chance he got for a fantasy.

And Sleeping Beauty…. It was the last one Virgil thought about before he ended his exile, replaying it over in his mind dozens of times, trying **_desperately_** to understand where he had misunderstood. A choked sob wrenching out of his throat when he did.

People like Philip didn’t exist…. Princes weren’t kind, and they weren’t gentle. And even if people like Philip did exist, they wouldn’t want Virgil, the villain, the **_curse_** bringer! Like no one had wanted Maleficent…… Maleficent…… The Dragon Witch…. he had used to despise her before he had taken form, now though, now he thought about it. The most powerful sorceress in the land in a time when they were practically worshiped. One of the most influential members of the ruling elite, and the king did not invite her the public affair that was the biggest thing in decades….one of the highest insults you could pay a noble. She had given him a chance, given an opportunity for him to explain, to apologize…. but he insulted her again. By the customs of the time, she was well within her rights to extract vengeance. Was cursing a baby the best option? No, he didn’t need Morality to tell him that…. but putting on a dark persona and doing something drastic, behaving as the villain…. that worked pretty well for getting everyone’s attention. For making things happen. **For taking control and doing your job**.

So he rakes his hair down into his face, he smudges dark shadows under his eyes, he hardens his expression and closes off his heart. He stands in front of a mirror and learns how to talk with only the lower half of his mouth, how to sneer, how to glare and leer, how to look as intimidating and deadly as he could. He practiced until he would have made a villain proud. He realized now that his childhood, if it could be called a childhood, wish had been foolish. He had wished that there would be no dragon witch to interfere with his making friends with a prince, should he ever find one. He was a fool then. Now he knew. He was the Dragon Witch in this scenario, and his prince? Didn’t deserve mercy. _“I fucking hate Princes.”_ He thought acridly, cementing that thought into the core of his being, locking away his childhood dreams of a prince to befriend under it.

He locked himself in his room for over a week, until the day he had this revelation. He stopped calling Roman by his name and started calling him _‘Princey’_ with every ounce of disdain and sneer he could muster, a constant reminder to the creative side that they weren’t friends, and a reminder to himself to never, ever confuse fairy tale with reality again: Princes were cruel and couldn’t to be trusted.

Years later they would talk about it, though not really. They would argue about Disney movies and Virgil would name every bad thing he knew, every dark act of every prince that sat embedded in his heart like an icy reminder of what reality was….and what it could never be. Roman would ask him “What’s with all the prince hate?” and all Virgil would be able to say in return would be “ ** _I wonder?_** ”


End file.
